


Damn Birds

by JustClem



Series: Pirates [11]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Chloe has a cruuuuuushhh~~~, Cute, Cute Ending, Cutesy, F/F, Feel-good, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Love at First Sight, Meet-Cute, and gayness, but then again everything is gay in life is strange, nothing but happiness, pricefield, this is gay y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-01 23:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20547557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustClem/pseuds/JustClem
Summary: Chloe bows with her hand still extended while she hides the other one behind her back. Looking like a real gentleman there, Price. "Thy name is Price. Chloe Price."She feels like a young lad trying to court a duchess from the Victorian Era, or some shit.The cute stranger's smile is small and sweet. "Max. Never Maxine."~Chloe doesn't like birds, but she finds herself feeding them.It totally doesn't have to do with the fact that there's a cute girl nearby that's being all cute and laughing a cute laugh. No-siree.





	Damn Birds

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my last day in Queenstown, when I saw a woman feeding some birds and decided, "Hey, I wanna do that too!" But instead of pointing out where she got the bread she did the unexpected, and I was blown away. It was fun, and I found out that day that seagulls are scarier and bigger than I thought. 
> 
> Like, guys. Stay away from those bastards. They're planning something nefarious, I can tell.

Bird-feeding has never been an activity Chloe Price endeavours herself in, but looking at the giggling and smiling brunette feeding the seabirds, she might partake in the activity, just this once.

Chloe finishes zipping her winter coat, and curses when it doesn't stop her from shuddering. Damn it, this coat costs her 20 bucks. It's supposed to be wind-resistant, cold-resistant, fuckin' fire-resistant too!

This is what she gets for trusting Frank, she thinks as she cups her hands together and blows into them. She's seen people do this before in TV shows. Or maybe in porn, the details don't really matter.

Perhaps it's less because of the coat itself and more because she's not used to the cool climate of Seattle. 

This is what she gets for living in the shithole that is Arcadia Bay.

She looks around, trying to spot her friend Rachel. 

Arcadia Bay feels like a ghost town compared to here, and this is supposed to be the quieter parts of the city. Everyone is moving, always moving. And they're everyone, and there are all kinds of 'em. It's as refreshing as it is dizzying.

… But it's really fucking cold, though.

Chloe walks around aimlessly, trying to shrug off the cold and find Rachel at once. The city is wild. She didn't know buildings can be  _ this _ tall. She feels out of place, but in her element. It's a strange feeling. But then again, life is strange, so what the heck?

Chloe is in the middle of lighting her cigarette when she hears it.

Giggling.

The fun kind of giggling. The kind you hear from kids who is seeing a beautiful sunset or snow fall for the first time.

The nice kind of giggling.

The kind of giggling that has her turning around.

Oh.

It's her.

It's not the first time Chloe has seen her, but it's the first time she really notices her as an individual, and not just a tiny dot of blurs in the many blurs of crowds. One tiny ant among the hives. (Do ants have hives? She's pretty sure ants have hives. Oh, wait, no. That’s just bees.)

All Chloe sees is a pale hoodie, sneakers, and mousy brown hair.

That's all she sees, and really, it's not much of an interesting sight.

What she hears, on the other hand, might be the most interesting she's heard since arriving in this interesting city.

And that's what compels her to look, to notice, to watch, to observe. 

It's a very nice observation, if she does say so herself.

Pale thin hoodie, brown hair, and sneakers. Not exactly enough to determine anything about that someone, other than the fact that this girl has no fashion sense whatsoever.

And she’s feeding the birds. Those damn big, white ugly birds that are a hazard to society. She's feeding them with a loaf of bread. She looks like she's having fun. 

Jesus, isn’t she cold? Especially with that hoodie and tee underneath. There should be, like, laws to determine the kind of clothing that people should wear when it’s  _ minus one-hundred degrees _ .

Chloe watches, enamoured by the joy. It's only feeding some damn birds. She must've been around Chloe's age - maybe one or two years younger, at most.

Chloe decides she should approach.

The birds all surround her like she's some kind of Disney Princess, and the closer Chloe gets, the more she realises these birds are huge, and the girl is, like, freakishly small. Like, 5’5 inches tall, which means she’s basically a troll with a human body.

Chloe smells a faint strawberry smell, coming from her. But she can't tell for sure. It's windy out here.

"Yo," she says.

The girl turns to her with a bewildered look. And  _ whoa _ , those are some cute freckles right there. Chloe attempts a smile and hopes her leather jacket, blue hair, and overall grungy look doesn't scare her like it scares most elderly civilians and Karen “I’d like to speak with the manager” type of moms.

Chloe points at the bread and chuckles. "Where'd you get that?" The girl follows where her finger points at, and blinks. "I kinda wanna feed those little fuckers too."

It's sort of a stupid question. You can get bread anywhere. Hell, there are a bunch of cafes and restaurants two blocks from here. She's sure she can get one bread from any of those shops, no problem.

The girl gazes up at her, and Chloe finds herself liking the way a faint puff of smoke trails away as she exhales.

She tears the bread in half, to Chloe's shock, and extends the other half to her.

"O-oh. For me?" Chloe's hands hover over the bread, not wanting to intrude. 

The girl nods and, with a cute-as-fuck smile, whispers a soft 'yes' which Chloe can't hear through the gush of wind. 

"Um, thanks." 

The girl’s smile is so sweet, Chloe widens her smile in hopes of showing that she really is thankful, and she means no harm.

Chloe takes the bread awkwardly and watches the girl feed the birds more. She looks awkward and out of her element, stumbling and swaying. Sometimes her aim is too far, and sometimes too short. 

It doesn't faze the girl, though. Not one bit.

She laughs, and she smiles, and it makes Chloe smile and want to laugh.

Chloe can't remember the last time she ever fed birds, but she never remembers these bastards being such hungry little peasants. It's hilarious, how intently they keep looking at her and flap their wings each time she throws a piece of bread. 

"Hungry idiots," she says with a laugh and a shake of the head.

She hears a girly squeak and turns to see the girl running towards her, a large flock of birds trailing behind. On instinct, Chloe catches her by the waist and the girl curls herself into her.

Chloe wants to say that it's okay and there's no need to worry, but it's kind of not okay when all of those bastard birds swirl past her, one of them hitting the side of her head and causing her beanie to fall.

Chloe laughs anyway, because holy shit, bird-feeding is wild as  _ fuck _ and she should do it more often.

She isn’t even feeling much of the chill.

"S-sorry."

Chloe looks down only to remember that she's still hugging the girl, and rather intently, at that. She lets go and hopes her laugh is less awkward and leans more towards lighthearted and easygoing.

"'S alright," she says, because in what world would she  _ not _ be cool with having a pretty girl in her arms? "So, you feeding these birds a lot, lately?"

It's dumb, but Chloe finds herself not minding much when the girl chuckles and plays with a strand of her brown hair. Her eyes squint when she smiles, Chloe notes, and she bites her lower lip with the front of her teeth gently.

"Um, not really. I haven't fed the birds since I was a little kid."

Chloe wishes to point out that she's pretty sure she's still a little kid, but she doesn't want to offend her. Instead, she says a simple, "Same here."

The girl steps away to watch the birds with a curious glint in her eyes. And, though Chloe doesn't find the sight of birds squabbling about like the buffoons that they are interesting, she stares anyway.

"I wish I'd brought my camera."

Chloe doesn't turn to her. She stares ahead. "Huh?"

"My camera," the girl says. "I'm, um, I'm a photographer."

Her voice is lower than Chloe has expected, now that she’s started to notice it. And it has a slight rasp to it. It's pleasant to hear. It reminds her of hot cocoa with marshmallows and extra sugar next to a lit chimney on a snowy night. 

Very pleasant indeed.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah." The shuffling of sneakers. "What about you?"

Small strands of blue hair ruffles along with the gentle wind. "Me?"

"Yeah. You like feeding the birds?"

Chloe laughs. "Not at all." That's when she looks at the girl. She doesn't look offended, only curious. "I enjoy watching them beat the shit out of you, though."

The girl's snort may or may not be a highlight of Chloe's afternoon, that day.

"They did not beat the shit out of me." Cursing doesn't suit her. Not at all. It feels as though the softness of her voice censor out the curse, making it as though she’s said ‘crap’ instead of ‘shit’, and ‘frick’ instead of ‘fuck’.

"Puh-leez," Chloe snorts, "they were all over you."

"That's because they were into me."

Oh, yeah, totally. Chloe doesn't doubt that. "Nah. They hated your guts, dude."

"Agree to disagree."

The girl shuffles her feet, and bites the insides of her cheeks. The cheeriness dims from her. Chloe wonders if she's one of those shy girls. It would explain why she's away from the folks, doing her bizz alone.

She breaks eye-contact with Chloe, and that's how she knows she needs to be the one to take the initiative.

She holds out her hand. "Name's Price. Chloe Price; known punk badass and delinquent from the small rural run-down town of Arcadia."

It's an awesome introduction, if she says so herself. Chloe starts to doubt that train of thought when the girl looks at her and snickers.

_ Damn. Is she making fun of me? Does she not want to hang out with me?  _ That isn't a stretch. Big city girls tend to look down on burn-out nobodies like her. 

"I would like to shake your hand, but it's kind of occupied..."

Is that a weird, fancy way of saying 'fuck you, no thanks'? 

Chloe looks down on her hand anyway, and realises the problem.

The bread is still in her hand.

Chloe jolts and offers her empty hand instead with a 'shit', hoping the girl would still think of her as cool even after that embarrassing slip-up.

Chloe tries to brush away the heat in her cheeks with a laugh. "Whoopsie. Lemme try again." Chloe bows with her hand still extended while she hides the other one behind her back. Looking like a real gentleman there, Price. "Thy name is Price. Chloe Price."

She feels like a young lad trying to court a duchess from the Victorian Era, or some shit. 

The cute stranger's smile is small and sweet. "Max. Never Maxine."

No last name, huh? Though, that isn't going to faze her. Chloe takes the short answer with stride.

"Well then, Max ‘Never Maxine’," she stands with her back straight, "would you mind accompanying me to feed the rest of this bread to those damn birds?" She waves the small, wrinkled piece of bread for emphasis.

"No. No, I do not."

Chloe decides to give the rest of the bread after two throws to Max. The girl thanks her with a silly smirk, even though that's technically her bread since Max gave it to her at first. 

The enjoyment doesn't come from the birds, it comes from Max. Max, and the way she tries not to shriek or yelp whenever a bird gets too close. Max, who stands on her tippy toes whenever she wants to throw the bread crumbs up.

Chloe doesn't realise it's getting late, not until she feels the light getting darker and the wind getting colder. She tugs the beanie closer to her skin and looks at Max, who she knows must be freezing.

She opens her winter, curses because damn, it's really fucking cold out here, she's surprised she hasn't caught hypothermia yet, and drapes it to Max's shoulders.

Max blinks and gives her a skeptical look. "Aren't you cold?"

_ I'm freezing my metaphorical balls here. _ "Nah. Badasses don't get cold."

"Uh-uh." Max doesn't say thanks, but she doesn't need to. Her grateful smile is enough. More than enough, in fact.

They take a walk around the park. Their talks are light and teasing. Chloe talks about her hometown, and how small everything is compared to this place.

"Oh," Max says, "so you're travelling?"

Chloe grins ruefully. "Skipping work, more like."

Max asks her about her work, and the conversation shifts into work stuff, AKA being a mechanic stuff. Chloe knows Max doesn't understand anything she's saying, but it's endearing watching the way her nose scrunches up in concentration as she tries to listen. 

Chloe, of course, offers to drive her home, because fuck everyone who says chivalry is dead. It's  _ not _ dead - not over her rotting body.

Max hesitates, at first, but Chloe is stubborn, so she relents, as she ought to.

She lives in the more 'suburb-y' part of Seattle, and Chloe tries to remember her address, despite not being the type to remember shit. Hell, sometimes she forgets where she herself lives.

"Oh, your coat!" Max says half-way to the porch of her house. She jogs up to Chloe and has already freed herself from one sleeve when Chloe puts an arm on her lithe shoulder, fingers brushing her collarbone.

"Keep it." Max frowns, and Chloe tries to smirk mischievously, but can't stop the fluttering in her stomach and the blushing in her cheeks. "If you really want to give it back to me, you can do it tomorrow." Chloe's confidence falters, and she coughs. "If you want to, I mean. Like, it's totally cool if you're, like, busy or something, but-”

And that’s when Max kisses Chloe. Just a small peck on the lips, lasting for one, maybe two seconds. 

It shouldn’t be impactful, especially compared to loads of kisses Chloe’s done before, but boy. Oh, wow. Oh, crap. Oh, damn.

_ Did she just kiss me?  _ Chloe wonders as Max smiles up at her, adjusts the coat that’s too big on her, plays with the collar of it, and runs back home.  _ Holy shit, she did kiss me! _

And that’s how Chloe Price got herself a date. Little does she know, one date will turn into dozens, and soon, she’ll find herself dating the girl, and not just in a casual way. The schoolgirl crush they have for each other will turn into something better, something more intimate, more stable, more domestic. It’ll be love - the most honest kind of it. They’ll move in together after a year or two, and grow even closer because of it. Chloe will surprise Max with a cat, and Max will surprise Chloe by naming it ‘Bongo’ - in honor of Chloe’s old, dead kitty. They’ll surprise each other by proposing one another at the spot they first met, and they’ll argue as to who will take the last name. They’ll never stop feeling old around each other, even when they  _ are  _ growing old together.

And it’s all because of those damn birds.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't actually know how cold it is in Seattle, especially not to those who live there and are used to 4 seasons instead of 2 (no, not seasons as in TV shows, but seasons as in _actual seasons_.
> 
> See, I live in a ~t~r~o~p~i~c~a~l place, which means the coldest it can get is around 20-18 degrees. Imagine how it feels to arrive in New Zealand, where it's super cold. I don't actually know if it's accurate for Chloe, who's probably experienced minus degrees even in Arcadia Bay, would feel cold anymore. She does live on the beach, so maybe it's warmer there than it is in a place like Seattle. 
> 
> So, err, yeah. Thanks for reading!


End file.
